


Say when

by orphan_account



Series: Flutz [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Questionable home remedies, Sickfic, Sort Of, Vomiting, Yurio being a brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 08:16:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21353086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: As a child, Yuri had been the sort to say "didn't hurt" after a spanking, even though everyone knows that only ever leads to a harder swatting. The important thing, of course, is to never let them see you sweat it.(Sequel to Solitary creatures. I have no idea why I keep writing more of this, but here you go.)
Relationships: Lilia Baranovskaya & Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Flutz [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540357
Kudos: 28





	Say when

There's always a little farther to push it. There's always a little more to grow. The last few years before his senior debut, Yuri had been bored out of his mind. He could beat the pants off everyone with his eyes closed and one arm raised. He'd never admit it to anyone, but Yuuri Katsuki getting over himself and not giving up competing is exactly the spark that Yuri had needed. Would it have been the same if Victor had just kept his stupid promise in the first place? It's hard to say, and it hardly matters anymore.

The free skate Yuri misses out on because of his stupid stomach bug isn't a qualifier or anything, so it doesn't officially matter. It does, however, cost actual sponsorship money to miss an appearance. The solicitors worry more about the specifics of where the money needs to go, but it irks Yuri a bit all the same, because he knows that it's down to him to keep it coming in. Additionally, there's the fact that pictures of him spewing his guts up in an airplane are plastered all over social media just to kick him in the teeth when he's already feeling down.

If they'd just let him sleep it off in the hotel room until the competition ended, it could have been avoided. No one who cared had seen him in the locker rooms. In fact, it wasn't even the first time he'd tossed his cookies during a competition. It happens sometimes. After his free skate at Rostelcom he'd been met by staff with tissues, a rubbish bin, and a bottle of water on his way into the kiss and cry. They'd gotten him past the barrier, blocked the camera angle, no big deal. A few quick heaves later he'd rinsed his mouth out, wiped his face off and waited for his score with Lilia. (A new personal best!)

Sure the bug he caught was a little worse than a case of overexertion, (and really, any athlete who's never practiced until they puked is a joke anyway,) but he still doesn't think it's fair. As a child, Yuri had been the sort to say "didn't hurt" after a spanking, even though everyone knows that only ever leads to a harder swatting. The important thing, of course, is to never let them see you sweat it. So, he doesn't.

He gets in a good solid 4 hours of practice. There's some stumbling involved, so he's probably still a little dehydrated. He drinks some water and tries again. By the end of it his lungs are burning, and he can't stop shivering. He may be stubborn, but Yuri isn't stupid. He knows it's time to go home.

\--

He'd gone to the rink on instinct, without a plan or any extra supplies. Skates had been easy to acquire there, but he'd settled for practicing in the same sweatpants he'd worn on the flight. He doesn't have anything clean to change into, so he grudgingly skips the showers. He's feeling queasy again, so he walks back for the fresh air. The last thing he needs is pictures of him soaked in sweat, wearing yesterday's clothes and being sick on the train floating around.

He makes it almost halfway back before his stomach gives an ominous flip. _Shit. Not_ _again._ Yuri groans out loud as he leans over a trash can on a public street, closes his eyes and waits for the inevitable. Whatever is left of the airline pretzels surge up and spill out of him, along with the water from the rink. Yuri curses and kicks the trash can spitefully between heaves. He's so damned sick of being sick.

When someone sighs behind Yuri he ignores it. They can just find another trash can, he got here first. When they grab his hair and hold it out of the way for him he almost jumps out of his skin, though. He's pretty sure even his grandfather has never done that before, but he can't even whip around and get a good look at who it is until he's finished dying. Yuri spits up another mouthful as the sighing person fastens his hair back for him. They give him a rough slap on the back, which only makes him puke again. He's too tired to cry this time, which is good because his face would probably freeze that way in this weather.

"Foolish child," the stranger chastises him, and Yuri knows the voice instantly. He relaxes, and only realizes after he does that he'd been tense for a minute before that revelation. He's still working through the sickness, so Yuri just groans again in response from his humiliating position hanging onto the trash bin like it's a lifeline. He hiccups queasily and belches up something thick and yellow before he can answer. Ugh, stomach lining. He coughs, hiccups again, and spits. Is that everything? He really hopes it is.

"What are you doing here?" Yuri finally replies, wincing at how raw his throat is. It comes out sounding like he's been gargling with glass shards, and it honestly kind of feels that way too.

Lilia clicks her tongue at him. "You thought Yakov wouldn't call me?"

He doesn't tell her that he hadn't thought much about it at all, honestly. He just burps into his sleeve and wipes his face with it after, because at this point he's already the grossest person on this street anyway. "I know my way home. You didn't need to come." He grumbles instead, embarrassed at being treated like a child.

"Yet you've gone twelve blocks in the opposite direction." Lilia retorts. He doesn't have to see her perking her eyebrow to know that she is. Yuri can hear it in her voice by now. He shoves his hands in his pockets and kicks away some dirty snow where he'd missed the bin at some point. Probably when she'd sneaked up on him, if he had to guess.

When she says it that way, it sounds really far. Or maybe that's just because he's suddenly feeling exhausted. He hiccups again, and even that hurts. His stomach is sore. His body is sore. He's still shaking so hard his teeth are chattering. Maybe he's not quite well yet after all. Self consciously, he tucks the hospital band up into his sleeve. They'd discharged him the day before, but those stupid bracelets are made of some crazy substance no human can possibly remove without some kind of specialty equipment or something.

If Lilia notices it, she lets it slide. "Are you finished here?"

His stomach still feels like it's full of angry gymnast butterflies, but he's fairly certain that once you hit the lining there's no way there's anything else left in there to throw up. Yuri nods. When Lilia responds by putting a hand between his shoulders and shoving him towards the car that's waiting for them, he's honestly relieved not to have to create his own momentum to have to walk even that short of a distance. His whole body feels like lead. He stumbles into the car and sprawls out face down on the backseat. Whether Lilia allows it because she's being nice or because he's out cold even before the door closes and it would be too much trouble to move him, he'll never know.

\--

He has no memory later of waking up and walking inside, but he must have. The next time he's fully conscious it's well after dark. He's on the sofa. His clothes are clean. He has some vague memory of sitting in a bathtub, and he smells like soap instead of sweat and vomit, so it probably isn't a dream. Beside him on the end table there's a glass of water. Yuri realizes instantly that he's never been so thirsty, and he chugs it like a dying fish. He can feel his stomach objecting even at the first swallow, but maybe if he doesn't get onto a bumpy airplane or practice any jumps or spins it'll stay down this time.

He's glad Lilia turned the lights off except the small lamp, because his head is absolutely throbbing. The vodka compress he's less pleased by, and rips the wretched thing off his throat before he's even wiped the sleep out of his eyes. He's still tired even after sleeping for who knows how long, but he's also suddenly aware that he's had nothing to eat in two days besides some shitty airline pretzels he couldn't even keep down. His stomach growls loudly in complaint, and Yuri hunches over a little in pain at the hunger pangs. Right, so he's going to raid the kitchen. Lilia will understand.

Yuri pads out silently in search of whatever he can make into hot food fastest. He turns the light on in the kitchen and blinks like an unearthed mole until the blinding effect wears off. To his surprise, there's something waiting for him in the warmer. When he opens it and smells hot milk soup he almost wants to object. He's not a child, why would she make that for him? Ugh.

On the other hand, he's really happy that he doesn't need to try and cook anything. And, also, that it isn't just a chicken broth like he'd expected. He dishes some out and almost chokes on it in his eagerness to get something into his aching stomach. Even a soft warm food like this burns all the way down, and he's none too pleased to realize that his throat will probably be sore for days yet to come. Still, the soup tastes heavenly. It's exactly what he wants, even if he never would have asked for it. It's surprising coming from someone as strict as Lilia, but in this case the surprise is pleasant. He inhales it in record time. His stomach groans a little in protest at the rough treatment, but the hunger pain fades away.

It's well after that when he notices the carbon Lilia has left out for him. He decides to skip it, since it won't do much good on a full stomach anyway and he's already starting to nod off again. He grabs a blanket out of the linen closet, wraps up in it, and almost breaks his neck tripping on a pail that's sitting in front of the sofa. For a beat his sleep addled brain can't understand why something like that would even be there. Oh. Just in case. Right. Gross.

Yuri steps over it on the second try, and curls back up on the sofa. It's still warm from where he slept earlier, and it seems like the path of least resistance for the time being. He's so tired. For once, he decides that the easy way is best.


End file.
